


blood (as red as your lips)

by verivala



Series: Grindeldore one-shots [14]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU Where They Left Together, Accidental Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Character Death, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 08:29:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verivala/pseuds/verivala
Summary: "Saying the words felt strange. Albus had known that no revolution could be achieved without bloodshed, but before it had been just an abstract thought, a necessary evil that he had not thought he would ever personally have to face. But now it had happened, and even knowing it had been to save a woman’s life, he could not reconcile the act with himself. He had killed. He, Albus Dumbledore, was a killer."An (accidental) murder and a proposal





	blood (as red as your lips)

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: violence against a pregnant woman (not on either Albus or Gellert's part)

“Are you sure we are in the right place?” Gellert asked, frowning at the depilated shack in front of them.

“I tracked down the family line from Peverell to Slytherin to here. Believe it or not, this is where the last remaining descendants of the Great Slytherin line live,” Albus answered, looking for any sign of the occupants. As it was, all proof he could see that the cottage was even inhabited was a line of laundry drawn across two birch trees directly in front of the cottage entrance.

Gellert hummed thoughtfully. “How the mighty fall.”

Albus rolled his eyes, but a small smile was tugging at his lips.

They both froze as the door opened. A woman walked out and started taking down the laundry. She was young, maybe younger than even the two of them, but it was hard to tell from her filthy appearance. There were smudges of ash on her face and, even though it was pulled up, it was clear her dirty blonde hair had not been washed in a while. Her clothes were so worn they were practically threadbare, and she would have been as thin as bone had it not been for her swollen belly. From the looks of it, she was heavily pregnant. Albus frowned as he took in the fading bruises along her neck, her arms and the right eye that had almost swollen shut. It was clear she was being mistreated. If Albus was correct, then this was Mrs Gaunt, and her husband was-

“Cunt!”

Albus' heart jumped in his chest. The bellow had come from inside the house. The woman had dropped the basket in her arms in fright and was frantically trying to gather the clothes back inside with shaking hands. A moment later, the door burst open. In the doorway, his face red with anger, stood a young man with oddly proportioned limbs; his shoulders were very broad and his arms overlong, making him resemble a giant if hairless monkey. Dropping the basket again, Mrs Gaunt shook with fear.

The man, Gaunt, grabbed her violently by the neck and shook her. Enraged, he pointed at the basket at her feet. “Are we filthy Muggles, woman? You clean with magic, or not at all!” he screamed, spots of spit flying on her face. She gripped his hand, desperately trying to pull it away from her neck, tears of fright flowing freely from her eyes. “You will _learn_ if it’s the last thing I do,” Gaunt spat, dragging her inside the cottage by her hair.

Furious, Albus was ready to run after them, but he was prevented by Gellert’s hand on his arm. Wildly, Albus turned to him and hissed, “We have to help her!”

“We will, but carefully. He may not look much, but he’s still a descendant of Salazar Slytherin,” Gellert hissed back. Albus was ready to concede his point, but at that moment, the screaming started. Shaking off Gellert’s hand, Albus run past him to the door of the cottage, stopping at the doorway of a small kitchen. Gaunt had his wand trained at his wife, and she was screaming from invisible torment, twisting around on the floor as she desperately tried to protect her belly.

Gaunt turned to Albus’ direction, and without thinking, Albus threw a curse his way. The wand flew from Gaunt’s hand, and he soon followed after it, his head connecting with the metal stove standing in the corner with a loud crack. For a moment, everything was silent. Then, Mrs Gaunt let out a shrill scream.

“You killed my husband!” she shrieked, throwing herself on the body. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks, dragging clear lines across the ash on her cheeks, as she sobbed, “Oh, Gaunt- Gaunt- “

Albus stood still, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His eyes were trained on the faint trickle of blood flowing down Gaunt’s forehead. His limbs felt heavy, and his breathing sounded harsh in his ears. He feared that his legs would give out at any moment.

A strong hand grasped him, pulling him away from the kitchen, and outside the cottage. Albus felt himself being shaken, but he could not bring himself to react. The sound of bone cracking echoed in his ears. Someone let out a soft curse, and Albus felt himself being propped up against a wall. As the hand holding him up let go, he slid down and buried his head into his knees. A muffled sound came from the cottage behind him and, abruptly, the sobs stopped. Albus snapped up his head, fearfully looking at the door.

It soon opened, revealing Gellert, who had a small cut on his cheek. His eyes held a triumphant look in them. Albus opened his mouth, afraid to ask what had happened. Seeing something in his expression, Gellert shook his head and said, “I only Obliviated her.”

Feeling relieved, Albus closed his eyes. He did not get to rest long before Gellert was pulling him up on shaky feet. “We need to go,” Gellert insisted, his voice concerned. When Albus did not rise, Gellert shook him, “We need to go, someone could have seen us.”

Reluctantly, Albus got his feet under him and leaned heavily on Gellert’s hold. He felt the pulling on his stomach as Gellert Disapparated them away from the cottage, and the body laying inside of it.

* * *

Gellert had Apparated them back to their small room at the Golden Hippogriff Inn that was located a few dozen miles away from the Gaunt Cottage. The room was worn out but relatively clean. It had two beds for the sake of appearances, an adjoining bathroom - which Albus considered a blessing - and drafty windows that let in the chilly autumn breeze. The carpet was dirty, and blankets were torn, if clean. The yellowing wallpaper was coming off in strips.

Overall, the room was not up to either of their standards, but it was all they could afford for now with their combined savings. Albus was still writing articles for various academic publications (sometimes with help from Gellert who refused to be credited), but he sent what little money he earned from it back to Godric’s Hollow, feeling guilty for leaving Ariana alone with his brother, even though Aberforth had insisted on it (“You are not taking her! Go chase fairy tales with that bastard if you wish, we will be better off without you!”).

The first time he had done so, the letter had come back with a scathing note about abandoning his responsibilities, but Albus had persisted, and reminded his brother that pride would not keep Ariana clothed. The money had not been sent back after that.

Gellert, on the other hand, had a large inheritance, but he had been cut off from it when he had been expelled from Durmstrang. Fortunately, he had some savings that he had kept in case of it ever happening - from what Albus had gathered, his relationship with his parents had always been strained at best. Once, Gellert had joked that at least he had not been disowned, so they would be rich once his parents died. Albus, who could recall his feelings when his mother had been lowered to eternal rest with perfect clarity, had admonished him. Gellert had not brought it up after that.

Albus had slumped on one of the beds as soon as they had arrived, his legs practically giving up under him. He kept staring at the far wall as he listened to the sounds of Gellert cleaning up in the washroom. The crack Gaunt’s skull had made against the stove kept repeating inside his mind. Albus swallowed. The mere memory of it made him feel ill. He closed his eyes and pressed his head against the bed frame. Behind his lids, he saw the trickle of blood that had trailed across Gaunt’s pale skin.

Distantly, he heard a door open and soft footsteps approaching him. A warm hand rested on his hair. Tears springing into his eyes, Albus pressed against the touch. The mattress next to him dipped under Gellert’s weight as he sat down. Leaning against him, Albus pressed his face into the curve of his neck. He felt tears slowly dripping down his cheeks, wetting the fabric of Gellert’s shirt. Gellert kept caressing his hair, whispering soothingly at him in German. When his tears ran dry, Albus kept where he was, breathing in Gellert’s clean scent, and taking comfort in his warmth.

“You yourself said that some force was necessary, did you not?” Gellert asked quietly, his thumb drawing soothing circles into Albus’ scalp. Stung, Albus withdrew from his touch. Gellert let him, watching calmly as Albus angrily wiped away the remains of his tears.

“That wasn't necessary! I only meant to stun him,” Albus hissed, his voice cracking as he was once again assaulted by the memory of Gaunt’s body, lying still and lifeless on the ground. He had done _that_. Gaunt's wife was a widow because of him.

Albus wanted to scream. How could Gellert act as if nothing had happened?

Gellert gave a sigh before grasping Albus’ head within his palms. “Look at me,” he commanded. Although reluctant, Albus did. The look on Gellert’s eyes was serious. “Albus, did you see how afraid she was? Do you think he would have stopped beating her if he had merely been stunned?” he asked, his voice intent as he made his point.

Albus was silent for a moment, unwilling to concede to his logic. He thought of Mrs Gaunt’s torn clothes, the desperate way she had been trying to protect her swollen belly. Eventually, he closed his eyes and sighed, “No.”

Satisfied, Gellert gave him a nod before asking, “What do you think would have happened after we left, and he came about?” Albus opened his mouth to answer, but Gellert silenced him with a finger over his lips. “No, Albus, think.”

Albus considered it for a moment, feeling his calm slowly returning as he ran through the likely outcomes in his mind. His mind returned to the old bruises covering her skin. “He would have been enraged. Maybe even become mad enough to kill her and the child,” he eventually answered with growing certainty. After all, it was not unheard of in these types of situations. Still, the image of Gaunt’s eyes, cloudy with death, and the crack of bone against the wood haunted him. Desperately, he said, “But we could have helped her escape. We could have-”

“He's a wizard, Albus,” Gellert snapped. “He could have easily found them. And we don't even know if she had been willing to leave. You saw how horrified she was.”

Albus winced at the reminder. Swallowing, he looked down. Warm fingertips lifted his chin, forcing him to look Gellert in the eyes. “Don't you see?” Gellert cajoled, pressing his forehead against Albus’ brow. “We saved her. You saved her,” Gellert whispered, his voice full of awe. Albus closed his eyes, his breathing hitching as new tears formed in his eyes. Sweeping away a lock of Albus’ hair, Gellert gently kissed him on the lips. “She had lived under his tyranny for so long that she did not even recognise it for what it was anymore. Just like we have freed her and her child from under his fist, we will free Wizardkind from their chains. For- “

“- the Greater Good,” Albus finished for him, the words feeling heavy with new meaning.

They stayed silent for a moment, soaking in each other’s warmth. Although his mind still lingered in that shack, Albus could feel himself growing more relaxed as Gellert’s closeness soothed him.

“Do you feel better now?” Gellert murmured, kissing Albus’ on the cheek.

Albus nodded his head slowly. “I still killed a man, Gellert,” he whispered, his lips brushing lightly against Gellert’s skin.

Saying the words felt strange. Albus had known that no revolution could be achieved without bloodshed, but before it had been just an abstract thought, a necessary evil that he had not thought he would ever personally have to face. But now it had happened, and even knowing it had been to save a woman’s life, he could not reconcile the act with himself. He had killed. He, Albus Dumbledore, was a killer. His hands flexed on his lap, and he looked down on them, almost expecting them to be stained with red.

Another pair of hands covered his. Albus looked at Gellert, seeing his handsome face, his high cheekbones, the blonde curls that almost looked like a halo over his head. He looked beautiful, as he always did. For the first time he could remember, Albus remained unaffected.

Gellert gave him a sympathetic smile, but his eyes remained cold as distant stars. He squeezed Albus' hand. “It was in her defence. Please remember that,” he pleaded.

Albus nodded his head, but could not help but think, _What about the next time? _Because there would have to be the next time, they could not reasonably expect that they would remain unopposed. Would Gellert sit here with him the next time too, rationally explaining how it was all necessary? How many bodies could Albus take?

He felt a great coldness filling him as a thought occurred to him. He remembered how Gellert had confessed to him the violent circumstances behind his expulsion. If Albus wanted no more violence, would Gellert agree to stop? And if he didn’t, what would Albus do? He gripped his hands tightly to prevent them from shaking.

“Good,” Gellert murmured and gave one more kiss on Albus' cheek before retreating.

Albus missed his warmth immediately. Without Gellert’s touch, all his doubts had more room to grow. He stared at the yellow-stained wallpaper in front of him as countless questions and what-ifs ran through his mind.

Fortunately, Gellert came back before he could work himself into another frenzy over it all. Sitting back on the bed, Gellert held out his hand and looked at Albus expectantly. Confused, Albus gave him his hand. He gasped as he felt Gellert slipping a metal band on his ring finger. Gellert gave him an amused smirk as Albus blinked at him. He nodded his head down, and Albus followed his gaze. Another gasp left his lips as Albus saw the ring in his hand. “Is that- “he whispered, astonished.

“Yes, I picked it off him before we left,” Gellert replied, clearly pleased with Albus’ reaction. Albus felt a brief urge to take off the ring and hide it somewhere where he could never see it again, but he restrained himself. This ring was his only chance to see his parents again. Stomping his guilt into submission, he stashed the feeling away in the deep corners of his mind.

Taking Albus’ hand, Gellert lifted it to his lips and kissed it. “You haven’t given me your answer yet,” he smirked, wiggling Albus’ hand. When Albus just blinked at him, Gellert rolled his eyes and asked, “_W__illst du mich heiraten_, _mein Lieber_?”

Albus felt heat rising to his cheeks. He opened his mouth, but his voice would not come out. Doubt still clouded his mind as he recalled Gellert’s calm as he talked of violence, the triumphant gleam in his eyes as he had walked out of that cottage. When Gellert’s smirk started to fade, Albus cleared his throat and hastily answered, “Yes. Of course, I will.” His voice sounded faint even to his own ears.

Gellert’s smile returned more brilliant than before and, with a small laugh, he tackled them on the bed. Albus closed his eyes as he returned the kiss, intertwining their fingers.

He gripped hard, afraid to let go. He felt unmoored, unbalanced, afraid that if he let go, he would drift away, far away from Gellert's reach.

This moment, the two of them alone in their bed, the ring decorating his finger, it should have felt like a triumph, one more step closer to their goal of uniting the Hallows, but instead, it felt like something, deep inside of him, had just come to an end.

**Author's Note:**

> Aww, don't feel sad Albus, you got rid off Voldymort in one fell swoop
> 
> Spare a comment, sir? Just a short one is fine.
> 
> My Tumblr: bloodtroth


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